


Recipe for Bitching out Bill at a Get-Fucking-Well Party

by CaroBertaud



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s05e02 Redux II, F/M, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7200014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaroBertaud/pseuds/CaroBertaud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapping Scully into a get-well-soon party — a surprise get-well-soon party, ’cause, hell yeah, let’s make things even worse than they would already be — was such a bad idea. He hated to be a part of the plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaneenW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaneenW/gifts).



       “She’s not going to like that, Mrs. Scully,” Mulder said in the phone receiver. “I know you mean well, it’s not the point. What I mean to say is—” He was cut off and listened to her again. “Oh, I don’t know, Mrs. Scully … I’m not sure Bill would be thrill— … Okay, okay … Yes, I’ll be there. But let me just say it again: she’s not going to like that.”

 

Mulder put the phone down and fell limply on the couch, noisily sighing. He crashed his head on the back pillows and closed his eyes. His feet crossed above the coffee table and his hands fell flat by his sides, palms moist despite the low temperatures of the November night.

The lights off, his apartment was plunged into darkness where Mulder found his heart and mind most safely hidden. He was still fully dressed from the day, but in the dark loneliness of his cocooned place, barely lit by street lamps and his fish tank, he didn’t need to wear a mask of strength; he could be true only to himself. Except he didn’t even know how to be true to himself, how he felt, between the miraculous healing of Scully, the unexpected meeting with his long lost sister and the presumed death of the cigarette smoking man.

 

 _“Mr. Mulder? I know something about you, about what Dana’s been through with you … So … Let’s keep the work away from here, okay? Let her die with dignity,”_ he remembered what Bill Scully said to him, stabbing him again right through his heart, or rather through his chest, air slowly and achingly escaping from his lungs. That was Bill’s effect on Mulder: agony. And the thought of having to face him again, no matter how joyful the purpose — if, of course, a get-well-soon party could be defined as a joyful moment in Scully, _his_ Scully’s world — was about as pleasant as punching a brick wall with bare fists. It would be a lot more pleasant instead to punch Bill against a wall, to throw bricks at him or to wall him in.

 

 _“I think that everybody here has their heart in the right place,”_ Scully had said.

Really Scully? Even Bill!? Where _was_ his heart when he wanted to let his only remaining sister die — dignity or no dignity? What kind of a brother says those things? Mulder needed Scully to clarify some anatomy questions because, for sure, he didn’t feel like his own heart was where Bill’s was. Mulder felt his heart was in his heart, in his chest, his gut, his mind and eyes. As to Bill’s, Mulder didn’t have the slightest clue.

 

 _“You’re one sorry son of a bitch …”_ Yeah, yeah. He exhaled loudly, rubbed and then hid his face in his hands. His eyes became wet with the remaining emotions of the recent days and he silently began sobbing.

Trapping Scully into a get-well-soon party — _a surprise get-well-soon party_ , ’cause, hell yeah, let’s make things even worse than they would already be — was such a bad idea. He hated to be a part of the plot. He hated that he had to choose between Scully’s well-being and her mother’s trust. He couldn’t believe Mrs. Scully didn’t know her daughter better than this; that all that Scully wanted right now, Mulder didn’t have the smallest doubt about, was only some peace and quiet in the comfort of her place, and maybe some homemade meal deliveries. He should call back Mrs. Scully in the morning and insist that it was too early to bring out the confetti and streamers.

 

***

 

When Mulder woke in the middle of the night, he realized he was still dressed and seated on his couch, and he wondered if Scully was asleep. He wanted to hear her voice. What time was it anyway? The clock read 2:23. 2:23! He checked again in awe. Scully’s date of birth. Was it possible to be more connected? No, but she was probably sleeping. Or did she, somehow, pull him out of his sleep?

 

       “Hey, it’s me,” he softly said after the third ringtone.

       “Mulder? Something wrong?”

       “Did I wake you?”

       “No, I couldn’t sleep. What’s wrong?” She repeated.

       “Nothing, I just … How do you feel?”

       “I’m fine … I’m still trying to process what happened.”

       “Yeah, me too … What do you think happened?”

       “Hmm,” she wondered. “I’m not exactly sure, Mulder … A part of me wants to believe there’s a higher power up there beyond our understanding of it, and another part wants … needs … to thank you for not giving up.”

       “I want to thank you for not giving up either,” he replied.

       “Any plans for the weekend?” She asked after a thoughtful silence.

       “Ahem, no, not yet.” Mulder felt a knot in his stomach and he gritted his teeth. “You?” He slapped himself on the forehead for the stupidity of that. Sure, he needed to know she was planning on lazily doing nothing but relax, read and maybe light a candle while listening to music; it would be a whole lot easier then to take her away from that.

       “Oh, you know, just relax, read, maybe light a candle and listen to music.”

       “Sounds good to me,” he acknowledged awkwardly, smiling at how connected they really were.

       “Wanna be my pizza boy for lunch?” She asked as he was appraising just what a blessing this woman was to him.

       “You have a pizza boy, Scully?” He smiled. “Yeah, sure, I’ll be your pizza boy. What would you like to order, miss?”

       “Something sweet,” she smiled.

       “Sweet, it is. Very good choice. What time?”

       “Around 11:30 would be perfect.”

       “See you tomorrow, 11:30 sharp,” he said. “Good night, Scully.”

       “Good night, Mulder.”

 

***

 

Mulder was casually dressed in a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt and his leather jacket when he knocked on time on Scully’s door with two boxes of pizza and two beers.

He noted right away the saying on her t-shirt when she opened the door; “Maine, the way life should be.” She was wearing jeans too, although hers beautifully fit her shape from the waist down — and so did her shirt from the waist up. She had lost weight while she’d been sick but honestly he had never seen her looking more attractive than right now. He didn’t get to see her casually dressed like this often enough. He loved her choice of clothes and the positive energy that came out of her. She looked a little tired but, boy, she was gorgeous.

She warmly invited him in, complimenting him on his promptness, and he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

 

       “Want me to take you out to Maine?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder as he was heading toward the kitchen.

       “Maybe some other time,” she replied with a grin.

       “Sweetness your highness,” Mulder pulled a box open, revealing a banana and strawberry pizza drizzled with caramel chocolate syrup. “As sweet as it gets.”

       “Aww,” she blushed affectionately, “where did you find _this?”_

       “Top secret. Can’t tell you. But I’m willing to be your exclusive dealer at some point. Or,” he opened the second box, “a regular yet boring vegetable pizza.” For that, she slapped his shoulder playfully and he shrugged.

 

They were sharing the pizzas in the couch when the phone rang and Scully got up to answer, sighing.

 

       “Oh hi, Mom,” she said lightly while Mulder tucked his chin against his chest. “Tomorrow? No, of course I don’t mind going to church with you, but tomorrow … Can’t we plan that in a couple of weeks instead? I don’t really care to go out tomorrow.” Mulder looked up as she was listening to her mother’s line of argument. Silently listening, she gazed at him and he weakly smiled back. She turned around again and gave him her back as she whispered, “No, Mom, I’m not gonna ask Mulder to …” Mulder was still unclear on who to betray. “I know he’s welcome to stay, but I don’t think that’s his definition of an enjoyable weekend.” Of course, it was _easy_ ; he knew he had to stand by Scully’s side. The uneasy part was to be unfaithful to Margaret’s trust in him. This woman had genuinely, generously and thoroughly opened her arms to him, welcoming him in her family without ever questioning his actions or pointing an accusing finger. He had been unable to reach her this morning like he had intended to. He would have to try again later today. “Okay, Mom. Yes, okay! I’ll be there. Love you too.”

 

Scully turned around to face Mulder and rested her hands on her waist, looking exhausted from the conversation.

Mulder didn’t ask anything; he waited for her to share what was on her mind.

 

       “My mom wants me to come home tomorrow,” she sighed, unmoving.

       “You don’t look too thrilled.”

       “Why, no! I just want to stay here and do … you know; nothing. I don’t want to go to church with her. I mean, I do. I’m thankful and all but …”

       “I’m sure your mother means well and just wants to help you find your answers. I can’t imagine how she’d been feeling when you were sick. I know how I felt anyway.”

       “I don’t think meeting with Father McCue would help right now.”

       “Com’ here, Scully,” he reached out his hand to her. “I’ll go with you,” he said gently and then made the end of the sentence in his head, “But before I’ll do, I’ll call your mom and have her cancel that whole stupid thing.”

       “I don’t want to bother you on a weekend with this,” she complained, sitting next to him again.

       “I’m never bothered when I’m with you, Scully,” he gazed at her. “I’m not!” He protested as she’d raised her eyebrows. “I’m even willing to go to church with you if it makes you more comfortable.” He looked at her straight in the eyes and then he smiled. “You want to aww me again?”

       “Maybe,” she laughed and he leaned over to hug her.

       Embracing her petite feature, he buried his nose in her freshly shampooed hair, shivering at the feel of her skin on his neck under his chin. “When do you want to leave?” He asked softly.

       “In the afternoon, I guess.”

       “Today?”

       She pulled back just enough to look at his face. “That bothers you, doesn’t it?”

       “No, it doesn’t!”

       “Mulder, it does. This is a bad idea, I’ll take a cab.”

       “Don’t be ridiculous, Scully, I’m glad to go there with you,” he said as he pulled her back in his arms. “I just thought mass was tomorrow, that’s all.”

       “It is. At 8AM.”

       “Boy, it takes faith and strength to be a churchgoer.” She laughed again. Scully’s laughter was so precious; it was the most delightful music to his ears, the best treatment when he was feeling blue. “I guess it does, too, to be working with me,” he continued, smiling.

       “Actually, I think it’s easier to follow you.”

       “Really?”

       “Yes.”

       “Wow.” It was his turn to pull back, only this time he cupped her face and brushed his lips on her forehead. Then he hugged her shoulders again and fondled the back of her hair tenderly while she stroked his back. “I guess I’ll go home and pack a few things,” he said after a while. “Pick you up in two hours? That works for you?”

 

When Mulder left her apartment, Scully leaned against the door. Mulder had a heart of gold. That was why he was so easy to follow and work with. Despite everything. She loved him deeply, in ways she didn’t even comprehend. Did she love him as a friend? As a brother? Bill and Charlie were poor comparisons. Mulder was funny, kind, altruistic, smart, loyal, exclusive and sexy as hell. She could go on for hours with thousands more superlatives. Did she want more than a chaste kiss on the forehead from this man? Of course she did. Was she willing to risk what she had? Not a chance. So, how did she love him? She loved him more than a lover did, but she sure would not dare to jeopardize any of their relationship.

She pushed away from the door with her buttock. She loved what her relationship with Mulder was, she convinced herself. It was strong, intense, connected. More vigorous than any of the little _real_ relationships she’d been involved in. Who said there had to be standards of love? And she knew he felt exactly the same. Altogether a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to shamelessly cry on _and_ a lover. A platonic lover.

 

As she hazardously threw clothes in a suitcase, she found herself invigorated by the thought of sitting at a table with both Mulder and her mother tonight. She smiled softly. God, he was good! Less than half an hour before, she thought it was a bad idea and now she was almost happy to be going. Not almost. She was happy. Period.

 

***

 

       “So much for promptness,” Scully mocked as she opened the door.

       “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” Mulder said, unwilling to elaborate or lie or justify the unjustifiable: that he had tried and tried and tried again to no avail to reach her mother. “Ready to go?”

       “I’ve been ready for over an hour.”

       “Sorry again,” he said as he took her suitcase.

 

Mulder knew his unmentionable and shameful _secret_ was safe with Scully. Never would she ask him why he’d been delayed. Although it would have been easier if she did. He could have told her then, and Margaret would have understood that he could never look squarely in her daughter’s eyes and lie to her.

 

       “You okay?” She asked as she put her seatbelt on.

       “Sure, why?” Liar. _“You’re one sorry son of a bitch,”_ yeah, that’s why, Mulder thought. Oh gee, he had almost forgotten Bill.

       Something had changed, Scully knew it as she watched her partner drive in silence. “What’s bothering you?” She whispered after a long and quiet twenty minutes, brushing a smooth hand over his tensed arm tightly gripped at the wheel.

       “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

       “Mulder, it’s me; Scully. You really think I can’t tell?”

       “I need to pee,” he said, changing the subject.

       “Didn’t your parents teach you to go to the bathroom before you hit the road?”

       “Never really quite listened to all the crap they fed me.”

 

He pulled his phone out of his jacket as soon as he entered the gas station’s restrooms and hit redial (again). This was his last chance and again all he reached was Mrs. Scully’s voicemail.

 

Back in the car, he had resigned himself that he would not talk Mrs. Scully out of it before they got there. So he promised himself he would let her know that he would tell Scully at least. Before mass tomorrow. If there was no way to avoid a party, there was a way to avoid a woo-hoo _surprise!_ party. Upon that, he decided to cheer up, let’s not ruin the whole messed up scheme. He also made a note to himself to buy some strong alcohol to endure and put up with Bill.

 

       “Feeling better?” She asked.

       “Argh, you have no idea,” he said before his phone rang. “Hello? Hello, sir.” He put the phone away from his mouth and whispered “Skinner” to Scully, and he instantly regretted it as he heard his boss ask him if he had an idea of a present for Scully. You’ve got to be kidding me, Mulder thought. Skinner was going too!? He had just had _Margaret_ on the phone while _he_ had tried all day long to reach her? Who else was gonna be there? “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t hear you. I’m driving with Scully right now. Can you — _not_ , he thought — call me back in a little while?”

       “Skinner? What does he want on a Saturday afternoon?”

       “Beats me!” He answered, noting that he was drowning deeper and deeper into sinful lies. He would _so_ not go to heaven. “Do you know where to buy a good and strong scotch by your mother’s?” She questioned him with her eyes. “And maybe some cigars too? I feel like relaxing while we’re up there.”

       “Scotch and cigars? Have you ever smoked, Mulder?”

       “Pff,” he shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing, “who hasn’t!?”

       “Are you stoned?”

       He laughed out loud and took her hand. “No, I am not,” he assured her, squeezing her hand over her thigh. “I’m anxious to get there, Scully.”

       “Okay,” she smiled, looking back at the road, “me too.”

 

No. You. Are. Not. This is a trap. We should turn around and go back to your reading and listening to music plan.

 

***


	2. Chapter 2

_Smile, you fucking douche!_ He heard a voice in the back of his head. And he did while opening the passenger door.

It was late afternoon when Mulder put the car in park in front of Mrs. Scully’s house. Just before sunset. That weird moment of the day when you couldn’t really tell if it was still day or already night, that very short, imperceptible moment between dusk and twilight, between straightforward dog and fierce wolf, that moment when all kinds of schemes were hatched in semi-darkness. Witching moment.

 

       “I’m so glad you made it,” Margaret greeted them with a warm hug. “Fox, thank you for doing this.”

       Now, was this aimed at him driving her daughter or him being the worse trustworthy friend ever? “Oh, no problem, Mrs. Scully,” he forced himself into a polite smile.

       “I hope you two are hungry; I’ve been cooking the whole afternoon.”

       “Not really,” they answered in unison.

       “Well, come on in already!”

       “I’ll unload the car and meet you in a minute.”

 

He hid behind the opened trunk and hit redial on his phone. One ringtone. Two ringtones. Three. He was about to say something quickly when it was (finally!) answered but he recognized Scully’s voice just in time, and trailed off, hanging up sharply. Damnit, he was doomed.

He took the two little suitcases, pushed the brown bag hiding some strong Irish liquored beverage under his arm and walked back to the house.

The good news was it was just him and his two favorite Scullys for tonight, he acknowledged as he passed the doorway. No sign of Bill yet.

 

       “Look at that,” Mulder said as he joined the women in the kitchen, “looks like you’ve cooked for a colony!” Mulder earned a warning look.

       “It’s true, Mom, this is way too much food for the three of us. Have you cooked for church? Or are you expecting someone?”

       Margaret turned to her daughter, “I just thought you’d take the leftovers with you, honey.”

 

Oh my, Mulder thought, Scully’s mother was such an unblushing liar.

 

***

 

All they could eat was a green salad. Mulder could have eaten something more filling but watching his friend eat tiny little mouthfuls of green leaves and chewing them forever like it was the hardest thing to do made his own stomach ache again. He wasn’t so hungry all of the sudden. He wondered how long it would take for Scully’s appetite to be back to _normal_. Earlier today, she’d eaten just a slice of each pizza and couldn’t finish it when she tried to have a third. Homemade leftovers weren’t such a bad idea actually.

 

***

 

After dinner, they shared a few family stories and said good night. Scully went to her old bedroom and Mulder was settled in the guest room. He was wearing a pair of shorts and rummaging in his suitcase for a t-shirt when Scully came to see him, already settled for the night in delightful blue satin pajamas. The door was slightly opened and she peered inside.

 

       “Can I come in?”

       “Oh, hey, yeah, I’m just … looking for a shirt,” he said, bent over his suitcase.

       “Don’t mind me, I like a room with a view.”

       “I’m sorry, say what?” He stood upright and looked straight into her eyes.

 

She grinned and sat on the edge of his bed. She looked at him in silence as he resumed digging into his stuff, and enjoyed the sight of the muscles of his arms and stomach contracting with each of his movements. Fuck, Mulder was really a beautiful man. Inside _and_ outside. She could devour him, eat him alive like those manta rays did after they had sex. God, she wanted to see for herself what sex with Mulder was like. It must have been divine. Her nipples erected at the thought and she grabbed her elbows and hugged her arms.

 

       “So, Mulder, what’s wrong?”

       “What do you mean?”

       “You’ve been upset the whole day — the whole afternoon to be exact — and you bought scotch and cigars.”

       “Oh, _that_ ,” he stopped moving and stood upright again.

       “Yes, _that_. What is _that?”_

       “Scully, I can’t.”

       “You can’t what?” She shook her head slowly in surprise.

       “I can’t tell you,” he said, sorry.

       “Oh.” She was disappointed; she stared at him and tried to read his eyes, and then she stood up as he didn’t elaborate. “Okay then.”

 

He sadly looked at her and he abruptly changed his mind. The hell with it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He would throw up all the salad he had ingested if his stomach ached like that any more.

 

       “Scully, wait,” he pleaded, grabbing her wrist, “come on back and sit down.”

 

He took both of her hands after he’d pushed the door closed and kneeled in front of her, resting their clasped hands on her knees. He bent his head down, took a deep breath and tilted his head up to find her inquiring and worried eyes waiting for him. Geez, was she aware of the effect she had on him?

 

       “I guess I’ll just say it,” he started, making it sound like a question, and watched her nod. “Okay,” he tried to give himself the strength to spit it out, “okay …”

       “You’re kind of scaring me, Mulder.”

       “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I’m not making a lot of sense here.”

       “Just say it,” she whispered, holding on to his hands.

       “Okay,” he repeated after having taken a deep breath for the _n_ th time.

       “You’re close to hyperventilating, Mulder,” she managed to smile and to make him smile.

       He looked once again straight into her deep beautiful eyes and dropped the bomb: “We’re here ’cause your mom has planned a get-well-soon party for you tomorrow.”

       “A WHAT??” She shouted and got up. Mulder didn’t let go of her hands, he squeezed them harder and was pulled up roughly with her. “This is ridiculous! A get-well-soon p—? I don’t want a get-fucking-well party whatever the hell that means!!”

       “I know, Scully, I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ve told your mom this was a bad idea. I’ve tried to reach her all day to call it off … That’s why I was late to pick you up, that’s why I was upset in the car, that’s why Skinner called while we were driving, and that was me who hung up on you when you picked up the phone here not two hours ago.” She remained silent. “Please, say something.”

       “Who’s gonna be there?”

       “Skinner and your brother Bill from what I know.”

 

She looked at him with pity eyes and he felt even sorrier for her. He pulled her to him in his arms. He tightly held her behind her shoulders and the back of her head as she breathed the tiny curly hair of his bare chest.

 

       “Mulder?” She asked after a moment.

       “Hm?”

       “Have you opened your bottle yet?” She lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

       “No.”

       “Can you? I can’t drive myself home, but a get- _fucking_ -well party sounds like good enough reason to drive myself to drink now.”

       “It’s late and you barely ate anything today, Scully, you sure don’t want to get some rest instead?”

 

Scully ducked her head back against his virile torso and inhaled deeply. Her eyes fluttered shut. Mulder put his hand on the crown of her head and caressed her hair down the nape of her neck. She breathed in his perfume, the sweet fragrance of his body and she felt his skin hot against her cheek. She subconsciously and lightly stroked his chest with her face, back and forth several times, barely brushing him with her cheeks and nose, and then she tilted her head up.

 

       “No, I’d rather have a drink instead,” she finally said mildly.

       “Okay,” he whispered.

 

***

 

Sitting next to each other on either side of a corner of the kitchen counter, Scully emptied her glass in one gulp.

 

       “God!” She growled with her brow furrowed, and then she hit the glass down onto the counter. “This is strong shit!”

       “This is a one hundred buck strong shit, Scully,” Mulder snorted a laugh. “You’re supposed to slowly enjoy it.”

       “Oh, I enjoy it, Mulder. I enjoy it _veeeery_ much,” she smiled, outstretching her arm for a refill.

       Mulder hesitated but she gave him the cutest insisting and penetrating gaze he couldn’t say no to. “Scully, you’re drunk,” he smiled as he refilled her glass. “Last one,” he warned.

       “You’re a true friend,” she said softly, almost childishly, lifting her leg up and teasing Mulder’s lower stomach with her big toe, her lips sensually sipping the glass, her tongue licking it lightly. Oh yeah, she was drunk alright.

 

He huffed and seized her foot, and began massaging the arch of it with both thumbs over his lap, while diving his golden-sparkling eyes into the intense blue of hers. She closed her eyes with delight and relaxation, and he blinked when she sensually licked her lips and captured her lower one between her teeth.

 

       “Feels good, Mulder,” she breathed, her eyes still closed.

       “I can tell,” he grinned as he glanced at her pointing breasts. “Stop doing that!” He laughed and complained as she once again drank her glass in a go. “Okay, bar’s closed," he decided. “Keep some fun for tomorrow.”

 

Mulder gently lowered her leg and stood. He took Scully by the hands and watched her as she tried to steady herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face up to him. He responded by enveloping her waist and held her tight against him. Man, she was wasted. Alcoholic vapors escaped her breath and hit his nostrils like iodized air on the seashore on a windy day. He felt pickled and drunken just breathing in the hot and humid blast coming out of her mouth.

As they looked into each other’s eyes, Scully rose up on to her toes, gently pulled his head closer to hers and tenderly put her mouth over his. She sensually licked his lips as if they were ice cream and he mildly parted them in surprise. She tilted her head to the side and brushed the length of his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. His chest swelled up widely as he gripped her waist harder and his cock twitched in his shorts. As her tongue searched in his mouth, he welcomed it with his own and rolled it slowly all around the little space of their linked mouths, and he tasted her spirituous flavors. Her tongue was engorged with scotch. This was so much more than one hundred buck shit, he thought. This was gold. Precious gold. Pure and simple. He couldn't resist the urge to seize her ass with both hands and he pulled her up closer to him. She moaned in his mouth, feeling even more light headed if that was even possible, and slid her hands from his neck down his ass. God, he could take her, he _would_ take right here, right now. He wanted to. _She_ wanted to. She started it. But she was drunk.

 

       “Scully,” he murmured, breathless, breaking from the kiss.

       “Don’t stop,” she breathed, going back to his mouth.

       “Scully,” he insisted, pulling back and stopping her face in his hands, staring at her. “Stop,” he said softly. “Let’s go try and get some sleep.”

       “But I don’t wanna,” she pouted, leaning down on the heels of her feet.

       “Yes. You do.” Mulder hugged her again and kissed her forehead.

 

He put her to bed and watched her as she sank off to sleep and he returned to his own room.

 

***


	3. Chapter 3

Scully walked like a somnambulist, guided only by her nose and the smell of fresh coffee that emanated from the kitchen. She sat down, put her elbow on the counter and self-consciously covered her forehead with her hand, her head still aching and buzzing from last night’s drunkenness. She heard the sound of cutlery coming from the living room and her mother entered the kitchen.

 

       “Oh, hi, honey,” Margaret greeted her daughter and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, “how was your night?”

       “It was … okay,” she said as she replayed last night’s kiss; how a soft and teasing kiss had quickly become intense and passionate and had left her short of breath, igniting all internal organs, liquefying, self-lubricating her center. She could still feel the taste of his lips and tongue, _his_ taste on her own lips as she sensually brushed them with her tongue, she could still feel his hardness against her demanding stomach, she could still feel his large hands grabbing and squeezing her ass. She felt the urge to touch herself, so she hastily swept her thoughts away. “Mom, what’s that all about?”

       “What do you mean, Dana? What is what about?”

       “Mom, I know; Mulder told me,” she replied matter-of-factly.

       “Told you what, honey?”

       “Mom, will you stop? Who’s coming today?” She felt like the investigator she once was and had not been in a while, amazed at how it was only a few days since she had been out of the hospital where she had honestly thought she would die. Until she had felt his strength and courage to fight, hitting her like a harsh slap on the cheek, neither willing to give in nor give up. But to give. Strength. Courage. Trust. Kindness. Friendship. Love. Love, she repeated to herself. All the things that changed from black and white to bright colors, all the things taken for granted that were spoiled or ignored, so common to her trained eyes that she forgotten all about how to look at them, how to even see them anymore, all the little moments she thought were insignificant, all the little details without which there wouldn’t be a great painting, suddenly appeared right in front of her eyes as though a light has been switched in a darkened room when she was just one step away from her final repose.

       “Dana?” Her mother called. “Are you all right?”

       “Ahem, yes,” she answered, unable to tell if her mother had answered her question and not daring to ask her again who was coming.

       “Have you been drinking a little excessively last night with Fox? There were two glasses out this morning.”

       “Not excessively.” Because I still have a pretty clear picture of what happened, she thought. No such thing as excessively.

 

As the memory of the kiss popped up in her mind again, she felt his lips upon her cheek and his hands on her shoulders. It wasn’t her reverie anymore though but Mulder saying good morning. As he passed by, she caught herself glancing down at him, looking for remnants from the night. But there weren’t. He sat across from her on the other end of the counter and met her gaze in a smile after saying hello to her mother.

 

***

 

As Mulder parked the car in front of Mrs. Scully’s house, after they got back from the church, relieved that Mrs. Scully was not disappointed at him for sharing her secret party, Scully realized with little anguish that the street had filled with more cars than she had expected. Margaret exited the car excited while Mulder and Scully remained still and seated.

 

       “This is ridiculous,” Scully whispered.

       “It’s going to be over with before you know it,” he said gently. “And, if it’s still too long, I still have some strong shit ready for you.”

 

She chuckled and looked over to the house, ready to go. Just as they were right in front of the closed door and about to get inside, Scully grabbed Mulder’s hand and pushed the door open.

 

       “SURPRISE!” People joyfully yelled in unison. In less than ten seconds, Mulder and Scully were surrounded by about twenty or thirty guests and Scully smiled for the sake of smiling. _Smiling is the best way to face every problem, to crush every fear, to hide every pain (unknown author)._ She looked up at Mulder who had an awkward and uncomfortable smile drawn on his face too. Actually, he felt so out of place that he tried to escape from the inner circle but Scully squeezed his hand and pulled him straight back by her side.

       “Let the people breathe for crying out loud,” a man shouted from the back of the crowd. Scully had recognized her brother’s voice, therefore she squeezed Mulder’s hand again.

       “Hello, my baby sister,” Bill was warmly inviting with his arms wide open and he hugged her tightly.

       “Bill, you remember my partner, Mulder, don’t you?” Scully asked as Bill had taken a step back, put both his hands on her shoulders, and was staring only at her, rudely ignoring her partner.

       “How can I forget?” He barely and quickly glanced at Mulder with a contemptuous grin, not even bothering to hold out his hand for Mulder to shake. “Get over here, you,” Bill said, smiling again, ignoring Mulder again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders again and pulling her away, “there’s someone I want you to see.”

       “Bill,” she protested.

 

Against his will — and, most probably, hers too — Mulder let her go and walked toward Skinner whom he had just spotted. Finally a friendly face, he thought.

 

       “I can’t believe how big you are,” Scully _complimented_ Bill’s wife, Tara.

       “And I can’t believe how skinny you are,” Tara replied before realizing how inappropriate this sounded. “I mean, you look amazing, Dana.”

       “Thank you. You’re beautiful too. And look at you! I can’t even wrap my arms around you anymore.”

       “Don’t humor me, I’m bigger than a whale, my back is hurting and my feet and legs are about to explode if I don’t sit down.”

       “When are you due?”

       “Around Christmas.”

       “Wow. Almost there. How exciting,” she said thoughtfully.

 

While the two women started chatting, Bill subtly walked away in a swift movement.

 

       “Mr. Mulder? A word?” Bill said as Mulder was talking to Skinner. “You’ve got some nerve,” Bill whispered with a harsh breath as he was pushing Mulder away out of Skinner’s hearing range.

       “What!?” Mulder stopped walking.

       “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

       “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

       “ _Why shouldn’t I—_ Because, if Dana didn’t work with you, none of us would be here in the first place. Don’t you get it? This party wouldn’t be.”

       “Oh, right, and you know this because you saw it in a crystal ball.”

       “Oh yeah, I’ve heard things about you. It’s not the first time Dana gets hurt. Don’t tr—”

       “Are you done yet? I’ve got a party and a friend to return to. Oh hey! She’s your sister, maybe you know her!” He joked sarcastically and turned around from him. Bill grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and Mulder waved it away, holding up his index finger as a warning. Bill gritted his teeth and let go.

 

On the opposite side of the room, Scully was still talking to Tara when, as she raised her head, she gaped at the sight of her younger brother walking toward them with a smile and she immediately stood to meet him in a hug. “Oh my God, Charlie!” Scully said in a trembling voice over his shoulder.

They stayed thus for a while, almost as if Scully was afraid that she would not see him in the next five years if she’d let him go.

 

       “I’m not going anywhere, Dana,” Charles whispered in her ear.

       She giggled and swallowed her tears, pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Oh my God,” she realized, “come on, I want to introduce you to my partner; he annoys me all the time and thinks you’re a myth.”

 

She took his hand and wandered around the rooms and guests, saying “hi” to a new face or kissing a cheek every once in a while. She eventually spotted Mulder with a glass of red wine in hand, talking to Skinner over by the buffet. Skinner awkwardly and uncomfortably planted a chaste and shy kiss on her cheek and Charles shook both men’s hands.

 

       “Nah,” Mulder said, smiling, “you can’t be Charlie; Scully doesn’t have a brother named Charlie.” Scully gave him a warning eye and Mulder leaned over to whisper in her ear, “only an ass named Bill.” She took a step back and shot him with her eyes, “I’m kidding, Scully,” he laughed before slapping Charlie on the back. “Nice to meet you, Charlie. I’ve heard a lot about you. I thought it was nothing but lies, of course, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

       “Me too actually,” Charles smiled.

       “Uh oh …”

       “No, only good things.”

       “Oh, so you really are that other brother.”

       “I guess Bill’s been a little harsh with you, huh? He’s always been overprotective with Dana.”

       “Mr. Skinner,” Bill interrupted as he joined the little group, “my mother is looking for you.”

 

Skinner excused himself and left. Bill’s intrusion had poisoned the atmosphere within the small group and none of the three knew what to say. As Mulder sipped his wine, he noticed Scully and Charlie didn’t have a drink. He grabbed two behind him and handed them to his partner and brother.

 

       “Should you be drinking, Dana?” Bill asked as Mulder was nicely taking a third one for Bill. He put it right back and prayed that patience would not fail him today.

       “Why not?” Scully asked.

       “I don’t know, isn’t it too soon or something?”

       “Come on Bill, she’s a doctor,” Charles said softly. “I think she knows what she can or cannot do.”

       “I’m just asking, Charlie,” he said, averting Mulder’s eyes. “That’s all, just asking.”

       “I’m fine, Bill. Isn’t that the reason why we’re all gathered here? Because I’m fine?”

       “I just don’t want you to get hurt … again,” he replied, this time straight at Mulder who had managed to keep his mouth shut until then.

       “Why?” Mulder asked. “Because _I_ gave her the glass?”

       “Who knows with you?”

       “Bill!” Scully huffed.

       Mulder bit his tongue so he wouldn’t regret saying what he really had in mind. He didn’t want to be as rude as this dumbass was. “Well, like Charlie said, Scully knows better,” he said instead.

       “Why do you keep calling her Scully anyway? Why does he keep calling you Scully? She has a first name, you know.”

       “Don’t be an ass, Bill,” Scully said, pulling Mulder away by the hand.

       “Yeah, you’re an ass, Bill,” Charlie said as he walked away too.

       “Why?” Bill shouted, raising his hands in the air. “Because I dare to say what everyone else thinks?”

       Mulder walked back to him and stared at him, face to face, only a few inches away. “For your mother’s sake and for Scully’s and because I respect your family, apparently more than you do, I won’t lower myself to your level. You don’t like me? Fine with me. But respect your sister, respect your mother, and respect yourself!”

       “Respect myself?” Bill repeated. “Who do—”

       “Bill, enough,” Scully said, pulling Mulder away again.

 

As Bill was still spouting off, Tara arrived and calmed him down while Scully introduced Mulder to some long-time-no-see relatives of hers. Mulder and Scully managed avoiding Bill for a little while. Eventually, Scully went to check on her mother in the kitchen and Mulder kept chatting with the nicest strangers until he offered to share a cigar with Skinner on the porch.

 

***

 

Bill came into the kitchen where Scully and her mother were arranging new dishes of food.

 

       “What is it with him anyway, Dana?”

       “Bill, what’s your problem? ’Cause I sure don’t get it.”

       “This guy is an ass.”

       “Bill, behave,” Margaret warned.

       “You’re the ass, Bill.”

       “Children,” Margaret pleaded.

       “Don’t you see all he’s put you through!? Don’t you see you almost died—”

       “Almost,” Scully pointed out.

       “because of him? Because of his _little green men?_ Since when do _you_ care about little green men? Don’t you care that he’s responsible for Melissa’s death?”

       “Bill!!” Margaret was exasperated and Scully, without knowing it, punched her brother in the jaw. Bill and Scully looked at each other in shock, and their mother stepped between them. “Stop it, the two of you. Bill, Fox is Dana’s friend and he’s a very nice man and you should try and get to know him,” she tried to cool everybody down as they both looked at the other with anger.

       “Don’t bother, Mom. Get out, Bill,” Scully warned her brother, feeling nauseous for what her brother had just said about their lost sister Melissa.

       “You want to hear my feelings about the guy?”

       “There is more, Bill?” Scully asked, falsely delighted but really wanting to throw up over his perfectly up-to-military-code waxed shoes. “No, I don’t wanna know. I already have a pretty clear picture. Wanna know how _I_ feel, Bill?”

       “I’ll tell you anyway,” he said, ignoring her last question. “Mulder is an asshole. He’s using you. He needs you to do all his little dirty work. When he finds what he’s looking for—”

       “Little green men? Not about to happen any time soon, is it? I think we’re safe.”

       “When he finds what he’s looking for,” Bill repeated, “he’ll ditch you. And what will it be for you? Then what?”

       “Get out of my sight, Bill, you disgust me.” And he did. “Son of a—” she trailed off, shaking her hand and rubbing her knuckles.

       “He’s only worried about you, honey.”

       “That’s what everyone keeps saying, Mom. But no, I disagree, Bill is not worried about me, all he cares about is himself,” she said while wrapping ice cubes in a clean dish towel to put on her hand.

       “Don’t say that.”

       “I do, Mom, I mean it, I genuinely mean it. Have you listened to any of what he just said? What does he know about what I’ve been through with Mulder? What does he know about him? Has he called me once since I started working with Mulder? Five years ago? Was he there after I’d been abducted?” She held up her hand to keep her mother from talking. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I’m sure he was very busy. Yet he just met Mulder a few weeks ago. Who does he think he is to judge a man like he does? Has he asked him how he felt? How I did? Bill is not only rude and stubbornly blinded to God knows what, he’s mean. Why is it that everyone always feels they have to protect him? I need a drink. Excuse me.”

 

When she exited the kitchen, all the eyes in the room were directed toward her. Maybe she had spoken louder that she had meant to. All the eyes but the ones she wanted on her right now. Where was Mulder? Her breathing was rapid and shallow, she needed some fresh air and some strong shit to drink. And she needed out from all these questioning gazes.

She poured herself a glass of strong vodka, emptied it straight, poured another one and walked out of the house, happy to unexpectedly find Mulder and Skinner sitting in wooden armchairs and smoking cigars together.

 

       “What happened?” Mulder asked as he saw Scully’s hand toweled up.

       “Bill happened.”

       “I’m sorry.”

       “Don’t be, I’m not.” It sounded like she indeed was not, but it still made her empty her glass in one gulp.

       “Where did you hit him?” Skinner asked.

       “The jaw,” she replied with a slight smile.

       “Ouch.”

       “I hope so.”

 

Scully sighed and sat down on the first stair of the staircase leading down to the garden. She felt numb and exhausted. She had defended Mulder several times over the years, and never once had she been left this empty afterwards. Perhaps she had been stronger back then or perhaps she needed more time convalescing. Get-well-soon party, my ass. Get-hell-soon. She missed yesterday’s off-the-cuff pizza boy and yesterday’s half naked man she’d kissed and overall she missed her place and its quietness.

 

***

 

       “Guilty,” Tara confessed shamelessly to Scully when she and Mulder arrived at the buffet. “See? I can’t keep myself from eating.” She extended her hand to Mulder and said, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tara, Dana’s sister-in-law.”

       “Bill’s _lovely_ wife,” Scully said to Mulder.

       “Bill’s eight-month pregnant big-not-lovely wife,” Tara said.

       Mulder smiled because he knew that was not what Scully had meant, Scully had meant to send a danger-free signal. “Nice to meet you, Tara. Please don’t tell me you’ve heard a lot about me.”

       “I know Bill might have been a little harsh with you—”

       “A little,” Scully repeated ironically with a tucked chin, raising her eyebrows and bending down for a glass of wine.

       “But he just loves his little sister.”

       “Who doesn’t?” Mulder smiled and he looked at his partner. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her against his ribcage.

       “What’s not to like?” Scully joked.

       “So … are you two …?” She pointed her finger and wandered it between them back and forth. They stared at each other awkwardly and before they could answer, Tara continued. “I’m sorry, Bill always tell me I should mind my own business.”

       “ _Bill_ always tells you that?” Scully huffed. “Really?”

       “Yes, why?”

       “Nothing, Tara. It’s nothing. Maybe Bill should follow his own advice every once in a while,” she sighed thoughtfully as she sipped her glass.

       “How is it?” Tara asked, forcing her chin outward toward the glass.

       “Quite good.”

       “Argh, I miss it. And I miss parties.”

       “This is a party,” Mulder pointed out.

       “Yeah well, there’s no music.”

       “She’s right, Mulder, how come there’s no music?”

       “Let me handle that.”

       “He’s nice,” Tara said as Mulder was walking away. “I totally get that you like him so much, love or whatever is going on between you two.”

 

Scully smiled and was relieved that Tara didn’t push the question again any further. They both lifted their heads as the music increasingly started to fill the living room. “You’re next,” Mulder said to Tara as offered Scully a hand, “stay put.”

 

As Mulder was gently rocking Scully over the languid rhythm of _You Were Meant for Me_ by Jewel, Scully saved herself the trouble of questioning the randomness of the current song playing. Of course, he had chosen it and intended it for her.

 

       “I was actually looking for _Quit Playing Games with My Heart_ but apparently your mother doesn’t listen to the Backstreet Boys. I wonder why,” Mulder whispered in her ear. Scully pulled back just enough to look in his eyes and they both smiled and hugged themselves again into dancing. Mulder bent closer to her to talk into her ear, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist. “Do you want to talk about last night?” Taken completely off guard, Scully wanted to see his face but Mulder held the back of her head and pushed her closer to him. “Shush, the song’s not over yet.”

        _“Dreams last so long even after you’re gone. I know that you love me and soon you will see you were meant for me and I was meant for you,”_ the song said.

       “I’m not trying to go away, Mulder,” she said softly before getting closer to his ear. “I liked it last night.”

       “You were pretty juiced last night. I’m surprised you even remember any of it”

       “I do,” she said, barely brushing his earlobe with her lips.

       “Do you think there is more to investigate?” He nuzzled her neck with his nose.

 

Neither of them noticed that Tara, Scully’s mother and a few other guests were gazing at them in adoration, and Bill in disgust. None of them had noticed they were the only ones dancing.

 

       “I’d like to look further into this,” her lips were brushing the end of his jaw just before his ear, “but a part of me is completely freaked out at the idea of losing what I already have.” She kissed him on the ear. “Which is already huge, Mulder.”

       “Good, ’cause I don’t intend to lose or ruin any of it either, Scully.”

 

Just as Scully wished this party would be over so that she could return to some quieter moments and begin to explore and investigate whatever there was to investigate on this new side of Mulder — and inwardly awkwardly picturing Eddie Van Blundht — the music stopped short before the end of the song. Mulder and Scully parted but kept a hand tangled to each other, and then they turned around as Scully’s mother, brothers and sisters in law exited the kitchen with a big round white cake on top of which a wide bold blue daisy was drawn from frosted swirls of icing. Scully noticed that Father McCue had arrived and made a note to herself to give him a wide berth like she did after mass.

 

Margaret put the cake on the table and asked Dana to sit on the couch as she began reading little notes from people who couldn’t be with them today. Letters like _“I always knew you to be strong and courageous in all levels of hardship. You have once again proved your courage and determination. Be patient and better days await you. You’ll be up and about and I wish you the shortest road to recovery and to see you soon in top form,”_ from Uncle Jeff or _“Look through the window, it’s fall and the sun is shining and smiling at you. It urges you to get well soon,”_ from Cousin Mickey or again _“The worst thing in a hospital is not pain, gowns or drugs … it’s the food! And you’re alive, so get well quickly so that we can prepare some delicious meals for you,”_ from Aunt May and so on. Scully was politely listening with a convenient smile.

 

       Mulder bent to her ear from behind the couch and whispered: “Japanese proverb: Fall seven times, stand up eight.”

       “What? You wouldn't catch me?” She whispered back this time with a genuine smile, still looking at her mother reading.

       “Of course, I would.”

 

Bill couldn’t stand witnessing their closeness and complicity. He truly didn’t understand what it was that bonded them together, how and what crazy ideas Mulder had fed his sister with that she’d have _forgiven_ him. He could never and he never would. For all he knew this was nothing but a toxic manipulation.

 

       “Getting sick is a way for the body to tell you to slow down. So take this opportunity to rest as much as possible,” he said when his mother had finished reading.

       Scully lifted her head to him and stared at him a moment. “Thank you, Bill. I’ll think about it.”

       “No, you won’t.”

       “Do you really want to make a scene here, Bill?” She dared him.

       “Don’t start again,” Margaret pleaded.

 

Mulder came around the couch and grabbed her hand. Scully was still defying her brother when Mulder told her softly that it was not worth it.

 

       “How do you do it?” She asked as she was sitting down in an armchair outside the house. “How can you stay so calm when all of this is meant for you?”

       “I have scotch and cigars,” he smiled.

       “Let me have some then,” she smiled.

 

Mulder was back inside, on his way to take the bottle from the guest room, when he found himself face to face with Bill. He moved to the side to block his way as he understood that Bill was going out.

 

       “Where’re you going?”

       “Talk to Dana.”

       “Why?”

       “Cause I wanna talk to her.”

       “Again, _why?”_

       “None of you business.”

       “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

       “Because of you.”

       “Yeah, fool yourself.”

       “Move out of the way.”

 

Mulder took a moment and let him. He took the bottle from his room and then two glasses from the kitchen.

 

When he was back outside, Bill and Scully were having an argument. “You’ve had too much to drink,” Scully said. She was standing with her hands on her waist, her chest was fully inflated and her chin lifted upward to him, standing a few inches away from her brother. Mulder urgently put the bottle down on the ground and stepped in the middle, facing Scully. He put his hands on hers over her waist, said soft words to her and gently walked her backward when Bill harshly grabbed Mulder’s shoulder and spun him around to face him.


	4. Chapter 4

Mulder spun around and faced Bill as he threw a right hook. Mulder dodged, bending downward and pushing Scully backward all at once so that she wouldn’t get hit, and then he bashed in Bill’s stomach like a football player, pinning him against the wall of the house.

 

       “Will you leave her alone!? If you got a problem with me then talk to and handle it with me. Are you always this much of a dumbass or is it just for special occasions?” He was applying pressure on Bill’s arms against the wall, the guy was about as big and tough as Mulder was.

       “What are you? Her devoted knight? She’s a grown-up, she can defend herself.”

       “Start treating me like one,” Scully said.

       “I’m not defending her; I’ve been willing and restraining myself from knocking my fist in the middle of your face the whole day.”

       “What’s stopping you?”

       “My being well-bred.”

 

Bill freed himself from Mulder’s hold and punched him hard in the stomach. Mulder bent down and instinctively held out his arm to prevent Scully from intervening. He straightened back up and punched back in Bill’s stomach then in his nose with his left fist.

 

       “Stop!” Scully stepped in the middle of them. “Let’s call it even. Bill, go wash your face.”

       “Your brother sure knows how to punch,” Mulder smiled after Bill had left.

 

Scully took a step closer and captured Mulder’s face in her hands. They stared at each other in silence for a moment; her thumbing his cheeks and him putting his hands on her hips. She had been wanting him and denying it for too long. But as she read his eyes, there was no denying anymore. She silently admitted her attraction and saw his. It was like looking in a mirror.

She pulled herself up on her toes and closed her eyes as her mouth reached out for his. Mulder wrapped his arms around her and responded to her kiss. As their tongues increasingly started to entertain one another, Scully slowly slid her hands down Mulder’s neck, chest and then buttocks. Mulder moaned and joked that he would _not_ have restrained himself for punching her brother if he had only known what reward he could expect. She bit his lip for that, and he groaned as his desire grew as fast as his sex did. He cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss and she parted her waist from his just enough so that her hand could fit between the two of them. And then she stroked his growing length slowly over the material of his pants.

 

       “Whoa Scully … _ah_ … we gotta … _ah_ … we can’t do that out here,” he managed to breathe in her mouth.

 

She shushed him tenderly and kissed his jaw line, his chin, and his neck, while continuing to rub her hand over his pants. She wanted this party to feel like a party. She wanted him. Oh God, yes, she wanted him. She felt his cock hardening and struggling in his boxers under her hand. He tilted his face up, trying to catch some air, as he felt her lips finding their way between two buttons of his dress shirt and he grabbed one of her breasts, squeezed it, and pulled her head closer against his torso.

 

       “Scully, stop, not here … We can’t,” he beseeched again. “Are you sober?”

       “Sober as in sober, or sober as in solemn?” She breathed heavily, staring at him. “Either way, I’m very sober,” she took his hand and opened the door.

 

He hid his _situation_ behind her as they crossed the living room. Walking one behind the other, he was really _suspiciously_ close to her, following her little footsteps. As soon as they reached the hallway leading to the rooms, Scully closed the door and pushed Mulder against it while she turned the little key in the keyhole. Thank God it had a lock ( _story convenience!)_. She resumed their kissing and he grabbed a handful of her ass. They tilted their heads from one side to the other as if they couldn’t get enough of one another, hungrily savoring each other’s tastes. As she slid her hand impatiently inside his pants and boxers, Mulder lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He spun them around and pinned her back against the next door in the hallway. She locked her ankles around his back and he began stroking her sex over her pants.

 

       “Take them off,” she whispered as she unlocked her ankles and put her feet on the floor.

       “Scully, you sure? The bedroom is right over there—”

       “Shut up and take them off,” she murmured in his ear, blowing purposely and sensually a hot stream of air.

 

Mulder looked at her in bewilderment and decided … Well, he forgot what he decided, for his brain officially trailed off and died in the process of undressing Scully.

 

       “The panties too,” she breathed as Mulder was kneeling before her with her pants down to her ankles. Her hands played with strands of his hair as he complied, admiring her beautiful legs in awe and slowly kissing her everywhere on his way up. Her skin was incredibly soft and smooth, not that he had expected any less.

       “Scully, you sure this is how you want our first time to be?” He asked as he stood up again. “This isn’t just a one- _afternoon_ -stand, right? Oh, I wish your mom did have _Quit Playing Games with My Heart_.”

       “Yes, I’m sure. And yes, I hope for more too. Now, touch me,” she whispered as she unbelted him.

 

He reached out and covered her mouth with his while his hand stroked downward to the little hair between her slightly parted legs, his fingers heading for her clit. They breathed pleasurably and moaned in each other’s mouth, hair raising on their arms, shivering from electrifying blasts skimming down their spines as they fondled each other’s sex.

Scully glided her back against the door and kneeled in front of him. She took his cock out of his boxers and licked it from balls to tip, looking into his eyes, before she put the full length of him in her mouth, feeling her own wetness grow. Mulder secured his unsteadiness with a hand against the door and he caressed her hair with his other hand. After a few minutes, Mulder bent down and gently pulled her up; he didn’t want to explode in her mouth and there was a pretty good chance he would if she kept deep throating him like that. He spun them around so that he could find his balance with his back against the door, kissing her mouth again, stroking her center and fingering her inner walls.

 

       “Screw it,” she breathed, stopping him from bending down to taste her. “Screw me,” she breathed again, taking his shaft in her hand and pressing it against her sex.

 

Holy mother of fuck, she was just as ready as he was. He lifted just one of her legs against his hip to widen her center and gain better access.

Their breathing was shallow, rapid, raw, incredibly and increasingly demanding.

 

       “Fuck, Scully!” He exhaled, aching to be inside of her.

 

All of a sudden, there was a noise behind the door Mulder was leaning his back against. Water flowing. And a man’s whimpering. Mulder immediately laid his hand on Scully’s mouth as he recognized Bill’s voice.

 

       “Fuck,” he whispered, a bit panicked, “how can he still be in the bathroom!?” He let go of Scully’s leg and was about to grab her pants and get out of there to the bedroom when Scully stopped him.

       “The door opens to the outside,” she smiled _(other story convenience …)_ as she put her hand on the doorknob.

 

He looked at her with inquiring eyes. She spun them around again, her back now against the door, wrapped her hands around his neck and flung her legs up around his waist.

 

       “Take me now,” she breathed in his ear, sucking his earlobe, as he grabbed her ass to hold her tight against him. “Hard and deep, so he can’t open the door. I want you in, I don’t want him out,” she licked his ear and bit it.

 

This petite stunning woman would never cease to amaze him. Mulder wished he had a brain right now. Luckily enough, his cock twitched and reminded him it was still here and took control of the situation. He took it between his fingers and rubbed it back and forth against her sex, and then he slowly guided it inside Scully. With one hand still on her butt, he used the other one to thumb her cheek and looked straight into her eyes as he entered her thoroughly. Her mouth slightly opened and she moaned. “Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes unable to stay open and fluttering shut. She leaned toward him and licked and bit his lip. He moved hungrily over her mouth, their tongues rolling together again, and he started pumping inside her as she tightened her grip over his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh.

 

The doorknob began to turn. One way. Didn’t open. The other way. Didn’t open either. Phew. Mulder learned tighter against Scully, thrusting hard and deep in and out of her, consuming her moans, burying his face in the curve of her neck and licking her sweating and salted skin.

 

       “Who’s there?” Bill knocked on the door. “Let me open the door.”

 

Mulder managed to smile slightly, surprised that he found the situation amazingly arousing. Like he could be even more aroused right now! A little too arousing, he regretted, so arousing he wouldn’t last long. Scully didn’t even seem to have heard her brother, she was way too fucked up and already way too close. Gee, she was beautiful!

 

       “Is that you, Mulder?” Another knock, harder. “I swear, Mulder, if you don’t let me out right now, I’ll—”

 

As Mulder hastened and hardened his thrusts, kissing her neck and shoulder or whispering sweet words in her ear, Scully came violently and cried out very loudly in a long and acute moan.

 

       “Dana!?” Stunned, Bill couldn’t believe his ears.

 

And another brain down! Mulder thought when Scully urgently reached out to his mouth.

 

       “Mulder, Dana, let me come out now!”

 

Mulder lowered his hand to take his sex out as he was edging climax and Scully stopped him.

 

       “Come inside me, Mulder,” she whispered.

 

 _Kids, do not do that,_ he said inwardly; _unprotected sex can lead to a lot of trouble no matter what the finest minutes, and lead to more trouble if you come inside her no matter what beautiful she is._ Scully contorted herself and grabbed his hand and put it back on her buttocks.

 

       “I had my period two days ago, I’m not gonna get pregnant.”

 

Mulder looked into her eyes and penetrated her again. He pumped a few more times deep and hard like she wanted before coming in a loud moan too while Bill was becoming even noisier than they were.

 

       “Wow Scully … You’re beautiful. And, fuck! you’re amazing,” he murmured in her back. They were trembling from head down, catching their breaths. He held her in a tight hug and she fondled the back of his head. “How’s your nose, Bill?” And knocking hard again.

 

He pulled out from Scully and waited to see if her legs could still hold her and then told her to grab her pants, panties and shoes and run to the bedroom. Both of them were short of breath and their cheeks — and probably the rest of their skin that they couldn’t see — were as pink and hot and moist as could be. This anteroom was quite somewhere to make out. He watched her as she ran to the bedroom and pushed all his weight against the door, pulling his sex back in his boxers and belting his pants.

As he put his shirt in his pants, he opened the door.

 

       “Something wrong with the door?”

       “I can’t believe this,” Bill said as he walked out of the bathroom.

       “How’s your nose?”

       “Don’t … push it!” He turned around, his index finger lifted up. And he walked away — after bitching about the other locked door obviously.

 

***

 

       “I guess it all went well,” Scully said, delighted, sitting next to Mulder in the car.

       “Which part exactly are your talking about? The one where you beat up your brother? The one where I did? The one where we made out in front of him?”

       “Not _in front of_.”

       “Well, you know what I mean … The one where we disappeared for the rest of the afternoon?”

       “All of them.”

       “So I guess you had a good time?”

       “Yes. I’m glad we came. That was a pretty good _get-fucked-up-knocked-out-well_ party.”

       “We can still try sex in the car if you’re uncomfortable with a bed …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michelle, thank you so much for proofreading and commenting again :) and welcome to A3o ;)  
> Thank you all for reading :) and for your kind kudos <3


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